


Serial Killer

by J_EnotsoLovely



Series: One Piece One Shots and Drabbles [9]
Category: One Piece
Genre: And its not even sexual in nature, Asphyxiation, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Body Worship, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fighting Kink, Homophobic Language, I don't even know what this is anymore, I mean they aren't even together, I think this is the most sexual I've ever written Zoro, Implied Bottom Roronoa Zoro, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kinda, Light Masochism, M/M, POV Roronoa Zoro, Possessive Behavior, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, this is what happens when I listen to music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27025978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_EnotsoLovely/pseuds/J_EnotsoLovely
Summary: Zoro wanted to stain that creamy skin with his own blood. Let Sanji grab one of his precious kitchen blades and fillet him slowly, tortuously. To place a thousand little cuts on his body and lick them clean, before watching with that impassive blue gaze as Zoro bled out.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Series: One Piece One Shots and Drabbles [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936849
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31
Collections: Unrequited Love





	Serial Killer

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Good luck!
> 
> not beta'd

_He got something like a poison_  
_The way you hit you got me frozen_  
_His love, his love, his love, I love you_

Roronoa Zoro was an insatiable demon. 

He feasted on those weaker than himself, those who _dared_ to rise against him or his captain and took pleasure in slicing them limb from limb.

Roronoa Zoro was nothing short of a monster, even to those who knew him. 

But if he was a demon, then Sanji was the Devil incarnate. 

_You say you hate me at the moment_  
_Could take my life without a warning_  
_But I know, I know, I know it ain't true_

"I fucking _hate_ you." The blonde hissed, spitting the words at him, blue eye dark, glossed over with spite and simmering with rage.

Zoro evaded a kick, knocking the foot to the side in one smooth motion before leaning in-- close enough to smell the mix of sweat and spices and something so very _Sanji--_ licking a stripe of blood off the chef's face, savoring the sharp tang and growling at the taste.

"Don't I know it." He groaned lowly, making sure to keep eye contact as he deliberately wet his lips, catching stray drops of crimson liquid.

They burned as they slid down his throat. 

Sanji reeled back in disgust, baring his teeth before charging in, malicious intent flowing off in waves and making the primal urges the swordsman start to stir with interest.

_'Cause I'm addicted, the taste of your_  
_Blood red lips and you sink in your finger tips_

When they met again, it was with a flurry of angry blows. The clash of steel against leather rang out on the empty deck. Blades sang as they flew through the air, near invisible, nothing but the bloodthirsty hum of Kitetsu filling the atmosphere. 

It was met each time with an infallible leather-covered foot. That sinfully long leg attached to an even more sinful cook. 

Blodne hair messy and displaced and utterly ruined because of _him._

_I'm the reason he's like this. I made Sanji this way._

There was more power in that simple knowledge than anything else.

Zoro felt his blood start boil at being unable to land a solid hit and found himself watching the chef's hips, trailing down slowly to rest on those powerful thighs clothed in tight black fabric. 

He wondered what it'd feel like to be choked by those legs. 

_I tighten the noose whenever I'm with you_  
_I could never let you go_

"Fucking _focus,_ you damn plant." Sanji snarled, taking one, then two steps back, lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag, blowing the smoke in his face.

"I'm always focused." The swordsman drawled, bandanna hanging low over his eyes, now drawn to the long, pale fingers. 

He thought of the way those fingers handled a knife, twirling it with the casual ease of a master. Arrogant, but efficient, never once drenched in blood that belonged to it.

Zoro wanted to stain that creamy skin with his own blood. Let Sanji grab one of his precious kitchen blades and fillet him slowly, tortuously. To place a thousand little cuts on his body and lick them clean, before watching with that impassive blue gaze as Zoro bled out. 

He wanted to coat those long, gleaming fingers until it was nothing more than red, until it was impossible to remember what his hands looked _without_ the swordsman on them.

The swordsman let his eyes flutter closed imagining that strong, precise hand slicing a hole in his chest, calmly as if he were a delicate fish, movements fluid. Those glorious digits digging deeply into the newly-made cavity and gripping his heart, squeezing it so that Zoro would scream until hoarse. It would hurt like a bitch. It'd hurt so fucking bad, but it'd be the closest that Sanji had ever gotten to him. 

So much more intimate than sex, and Zoro would lay riveted at his blood soaked through the cook's clothes and watching the blonde's lips curl in aversion and pride. 

The swordsman would be laid out bare, quite literally open and his life resting solely in Sanji's hand, each of his heart's beat yet another unspoken confession.

_I love you._

_My lover's a serial killer_  
_He don't need no trigger_  
_Cause I know He's heartless_  
_He stole my heart, it's true_

The man watched with hooded eyes as Sanji stubbed his cigarette, slowly removing the pressed suit jacket, folding it neatly. He stood still, stance loose and relaxed, observing Zoro with a contemplative expression.

In a lapse of judgement-- or possibly concentration, though he'd never admit it-- the swordsman found his scenery to be drastically different, now staring up at a cloudless sky, the residual pain in his spine his only indication of what had transpired.

He made to move, and maybe chop off that swirly eyebrow once and for all but the feeling of a dirt encrusted heel pressing down on his throat made him stop, body stilled in anticipation.

The blonde ground down hard, digging his shoe into Zoro's esophagus, specks of soil and and grass that had gotten trapped within the crevasses of the outsole littering the deck and showering the top of his white shirt. He fought the rising urge to tilt his chin forward and lick the thick leather. To embrace whatever disgusting flavors it'd gift him with.

_Power._

Power was being pressed into him. 

_My lover's a serial killer_  
_But I always stay with him_  
_Cruel is just a thing you do_  
_But I love you_

Zoro groaned, or tried to, nothing escaping but a cut off gasp, the edges of his vision beginning to turn black and his hands reached out blindly, latching onto his crotch and beginning to palm it it slowly, methodically. He had to savor it, and sent a distant thanks out to his captain for declaring the day to be for exploration at their newest island.

Sanji was only rough when they were alone. They only fought for _real_ when they were by themselves. 

The swordsman's hand began to stutter and the first shudder ran through his body in a tumultuous wave, the combined pressure of an impending orgasm and need to breath finally taking its toll. 

The chef stepped away, eerily quiet but the tan teen didn't bother to check and instead took welcome gulps of air, relishing the way it stung his lungs.

He lasted longer than last time.

_Stronger._

He was getting stronger.

_I tried to touch you but you cut through_  
_My own-american psycho_  
_And your loves a drug that takes me so high_

Sanji watched him with narrowed eyes, face morphing into one of utter distaste and the barest hint of satisfaction. He walking over, covering ground in three steps before crouching down in front of Zoro, fingers twitching in the way that the other man knew he was craving another cigarette. 

"You really like that, don't you?" The blonde drawled, voice uncaring and hair swishing lightly as he shook his head in revulsion. "Are all faggots as batshit crazy as you?"

Zoro smiled, making sure to show his canines, letting the predator in him rise as he fixed the cook with a malicious glare. "You too." He replied simply, choosing to answer both questions the same knowing they would get under the chef's skin.

He was right, and looked in amused satisfaction as Sanji studied him silently, blue orbs having turned a stormy gray.

_Lights go down and you break mad_  
_You can find him on the wall path_  
_And he's not the same in the daylight_

A light hand cupped his throat, giving an experimental squeeze and the swordsman let his body shake in a small shudder, eyes rolling to back of his head. He thought of those calm days on the Merry Go, watching in riveted fascination as the blonde dug blunt nails into fruit peeling the skin back and rendering it as easily as flesh.

He gave a low moan.

Sanji gripped tighter, cutting the air supply completely and let those pink lips curve at the sight of a weakened swordsman. "I like _this."_ The blonde whispered, leaning forward so that the breath of his words made Zoro's earrings clank against one another. "Not _you."_

He clutched even harder, with greater force and swordsman almost keened at the first hand knowledge that Sanji had immense upper body strength as well.

The feeling of losing air wasn't pleasant but it sent a thrill through his prone figure. 

It was a threat, and a promise.

_I'll maim you._

Because Sanji would never kill him. They were Nakama after all.

But he would damn well try. 

He would fight and scream and kick and push the green head to get even better.

Better.

_Better._

Until no one could ever even _hope_ to match in strength. 

And that's why Zoro loved him.

Even if Sanji didn't love him back.

_But I'm addicted to the taste of your blood_  
_Red lips and you're sinking your finger tips_  
_I don't want the truth when I'm with you_  
_I could never let you lose_

"You _need_ me shitty cook." The swordsman rasped when he'd been released, feeling pleased and sated. "I'm the only one who can handle your shit."

Sanji tutted, stepping away, their dark atmosphere fading to something more amicable, as if they hadn't just been at each other's throats. 

The beast in the tan teen curled back up and slept once again, tail flicking lazily, contentedly. 

"I'm not the masochistic one Marimo." The blonde stated curtly, cutting his eyes away as he lit a cigarette. "I'm just the one who gives you what you want."

Sadist.

That was the word he didn't want to say.

 _Its cute._ Zoro thought, grinning slightly as Sanji flushed, confident asshole seeming to have gone to take his own nap.

_My lover's a serial killer_  
_But he don't need no trigger_  
_Because I know he's heartless_  
_But he stole my heart, it's true_

"Yeah and how generous of you. Getting off on beating someone down." The green head snorted, sitting up and willing his hard-on to fade. 

He wasn't in the mood.

"Strokes that superiority complex of yours, does it?" The teen continued, hissing slightly as he stood up, throat beginning to ache. 

"I'm just giving you want you want." The blonde repeated. "I like being able to shut you up, bonus points if it means hurting you."

Not for the first time, Zoro wondered what sort of childhood Sanji had that led him to be an obstinate control freak. The chef was precise in everything he did, even more so during their... _sessions._

But whatever, it wasn't important. 

If he wanted to talk, he would, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the swordsman he'd speak to.

_Bonus points if it means hurting me, huh?_

He didn't think Sanji knew just how true those words were.

Zoro made his way to galley, in desperate need for booze and his weekly bath.

_But I love you, you, you, you_

_I hate this._ A small voice whispered but he crushed it before it could rise in volume. 

Everything was fine. 

It was _perfect_.

He was okay with the way things were.

He was okay.

Even if Sanji hurt him in ways that weren't pleasurable. In ways that made him cradle his ale for longer than normal and prompted the witch to give him a higher allowance.

_My lover's a serial killer_  
_But I always stay with him_  
_Cruel is just a thing you do_

Even if Luffy stole from his plate less and Usopp made him random gadgets and everyone pretended not to hear him on the nights he cried himself to sleep.

It was okay. 

_He_ was okay.

_Cause that's what makes me feel alive_

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song "Serial Killer" by Mincrieff  
> Some of the lyrics were modified to fit the fic.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed. This was more of a darker/toxic vibe for me. LOL Not a single kiss was exchanged.  
> Tell me you thoughts please!


End file.
